


Welcome Home

by Mochapup12



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast), The Adventure Zone: Amnesty (Podcast)
Genre: Coping with Grief, Crying, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Other, Survivor Guilt, Swearing, Violence, but it's left pretty ambiguous, hollis and jake are exes, the hornets are a family and you can pry that out of my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 09:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18443357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mochapup12/pseuds/Mochapup12
Summary: "For a long moment, there’s silence. It’s not something that they’re used to; noise usually follows the Hornets wherever they go, raucous and obnoxious and uncaring. The despondent quiet seems to press in on Hollis from all sides, oppressive and heavy. The empty halls ring with it. Even with half a dozen other Hornets sitting on benches and in corners up and down the hallway, it feels almost…Dead. It feels dead.Hollis wonders if that will ever change, now."Hollis is reeling in the aftermath of the attack at the Hornet's Nest, but as a leader, they're trying not to show it. Then Jake shows up, because of course he does. That's the last thing Hollis needs.At least, that's what they're going to keep telling themselves.





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> hello i got this idea at 11pm last night and abandoned literally every other project i have to work on it whoops
> 
> title from lovely by billie eilish bc i was listening to it on repeat while writing this and uh. ouch.
> 
> fair warning: this is easily the most graphic thing i've ever written - i paint pretty much the same picture that griffin did at the start of the arc but more in depth. if that's something that upsets you, you might want to sit this one out. i've definitely seen bloodier descriptions in my time, but they've never been my own before and i just don't want y'all going in blind.
> 
> cw for violence, gore, hospitals, and a hell of a lot of survivor's guilt.
> 
> have fun!

_ The glass window behind Hollis shatters. They duck almost instinctively, shards raining down over their shoulders. If any draw blood, they don’t notice. They’re too focused on the mangled body lying on the pavement in front of them. Whoever it is is almost unrecognizable through the gashes covering their face, but they see a swathe of long auburn hair and their stomach lurches - Avery. They know that hair. Bevin always likes to braid it when she’ll let him. How many times have they watched her laugh and coach him through it? How many times have they fixed her braid themselves when it starts to come loose on the slopes? _

 

_ Hollis can’t tell if she’s breathing. They don’t have time to check. _

 

_ Their people are still screaming inside the bar. _

 

_ Without a second thought, they leap through the shattered window. Jagged glass still lining the sill cuts into their palms, but they barely feel it. Their mind has narrowed to one thought - the baseball bat behind the bar. If they can just get to that, they can fight this thing off. _

 

_ They have to. _

 

_ The scene inside the bar is nothing short of a nightmare, and they take in the whole horrible thing in a fraction of a second. It’s dark, and the air is filled with a hazy smoke that’s usually familiar and comfortable - now, it just makes it harder to see. Broken glass litters the stained concrete floor. Tables lie in splintered pieces with toppled chairs tossed haphazardly into corners. _

 

_ And Hollis has never seen so much blood. _

 

_ They’ve seen some pretty nasty accidents. Shit happens, especially when you’re into extreme sports. Broken limbs, bruises covering entire torsos, cuts deep enough to hit muscle, even a severed artery, once. _

 

_ This makes all of them look like scraped knees at a children’s playground. _

 

_ Pools of blood, almost black in the dim light, trail across the floor in patches. Bloodied footprints lead between them, and the marks of struggle are clear in the splatters against the walls and the viscera surrounding more limp bodies. _

 

_ This monster, whatever it is, is crouched on top of the bar. Hollis can’t tell who it is that it’s holding. That might be for the best; their throat has been torn out, and there’s no way that they’re still alive. It shrieks, and Hollis grits their teeth as adrenaline, born of fury and of fear, rushes through their veins. _

 

_ This is their town, their bar, their people. This thing isn’t going to take that away from them. _

 

_ “Go, get out of here!” they yell at the last few panicked Hornets in the room around them. Without thinking twice, they charge towards the monster, ducking around at the last second to get behind the bar. It tosses down the body it’s holding like it’s a broken toy instead of a person, and it lands in a crumpled heap with a sickening crunch. _

 

_ They lunge forward, fingers closing around the well-worn handle of the baseball bat. The monster slashes down at them. They come up swinging. With a resounding crack, they slam the bat against its jaw and manage to knock it off the bar. They feel a flicker of satisfaction, but it vanishes a moment later as the creature leaps to its feet faster than should be possible. It snarls at them, eyes alight with a feral rage and wickedly sharp teeth stained with gore. Then it whips around, leaping for the open door, and vanishes into the night. _

 

 

Hollis blinks open their eyes to the steady beeping of a heart monitor. They’re sitting in a plastic chair in a hospital room, all blank white walls and the stench of antiseptic. Avery lies unnervingly still in the bed in front of them, but the monitor is proof that she’s still alive. At least that’s something. The doctor had said that if she made it through the night, she’d probably be okay. Watery winter sunlight peeks through the blinds, painting the room golden with the sunrise, and Hollis breathes a sigh of relief.

 

They don’t know if they could handle losing anyone else.

 

A nurse is bustling around the room, checking Avery’s vitals and making notes. She smiles sympathetically at them when she notices that they’re awake.

 

“She’s doing better, hon. The worst is behind us, though that doesn’t mean she’s out of the woods yet. It’ll probably still be a while before she wakes up.”

 

Hollis just nods, their whole body heavy with a sudden exhaustion that crashes over them as their racing heartbeat slows.

 

“Oh, your friend was looking for you earlier,” the nurse continues. “He came in to tell you something, but he decided to let you sleep. Lord knows you needed it.” Hollis sighs, scrubbing their hands over their face. They shouldn’t have fallen asleep; Keith and the others still need them. They’re supposed to be a leader. After something like this, their people come first.

 

They feel a twinge of guilt in their chest. First they hadn’t been able to stop that thing from waltzing right into the bar and killing their friends, even though they knew that something was wrong. Now they’re passing out in uncomfortable hospital chairs while the rest of the Hornets need their leadership more than ever.

 

They haul themselves to their feet, thanking the nurse quietly and heading for the door. She didn’t say anything about the other four Hornets in identical beds, but people always say no news is good news. They try not to dwell on it. If something bad had happened, they’re sure someone would have woken them.

 

The hallway outside of the room is nearly empty, save for a few sullen, battered Hornets scattered around that look up when they open the door. Every little sound echoes as they pull it shut behind them. It almost feels wrong to be here, disturbing the quiet.

 

Keith is slumped on a bench against the wall. He looks far smaller than he should, hunched in on himself with gauze visible beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. He’d been hurt pretty bad, but they’d managed to sew him up without too much trouble, and he’d woken up about an hour after being brought in.

 

He looks up as Hollis approaches, the tension on his face melting into relief.

 

“Hey, there you are. How is she?” he asks.

 

Hollis all but collapses onto the bench next to him. “Nurse says she’s doing better, but she’s not in the clear yet. How are the others?”

 

“Brandon’s stable now, and he’s been in and out of consciousness for a couple hours. Red’s still out, but they made it through surgery. Max and Heather are still up in the air. Apparently he’s got a punctured lung and some internal bleeding, and she lost so much blood that her body went into shock.”

 

Hollis sucks in a breath, letting it out slowly. At least things haven’t gotten worse. At least they’re still alive.

 

The same can’t be said for all of the Hornets.

 

“I, um. One of the sheriff’s people swung by earlier. I was gonna wake you up, but…” he trails off, and Hollis feels that prick of guilt again.  They should have been here to get any updates themselves.

 

“Any news?” they ask.

 

“Yeah. They retrieved two bodies from the Nest. Owens says they’re at the morgue, and wants someone to come by and ID them once things settle down here.” Keith’s voice is small and tired, and Hollis closes their eyes against a sudden stinging at the corners. They are not going to cry here. Not when their people need them and there’s still so much to be done. For fuck’s sake, they don’t even know who’s gone yet. There had been too much chaos after the attack, and there are still too many Hornets unaccounted for.

 

“I’ll go once we hear more about Max and Heather,” they say, hearing an unfamiliar roughness to their own voice. Keith sets a hand on their shoulder, wincing a little when it pulls at the bandages.

 

“You sure?” he asks. “You need someone to go with you?”

 

Hollis shakes their head. “I’ll grab one of the others if I can, but you need to stay here. You’re still hurt, Keith. I’m not putting you through that.”

 

“I want to be there. They - I want to know for sure, Hollis, I want to see them. I need to know.” Hollis realizes that his voice is trembling, and they sigh.

 

“Look, I get it. I really do. But look at yourself. The last thing you need after getting torn open and passing out from blood loss is to go see the bodies of people you cared about in a morgue. I appreciate it, but for your sake and mine, I need you here. We’ll get ahold of some radios so you can call if anything changes while I’m gone.”

 

Keith doesn’t look happy, but he nods anyway. Hollis pulls him carefully into a loose half-hug, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and thanking whatever deities they can think of that he’s still alive. They vaguely remember leaping over his unconscious body in the bar and wondering if they were going to lose their right-hand-man and best friend to this monster, too.

 

Keith lets his head rest on Hollis’s shoulder. The Hornets aren’t always big on physical affection, but Hollis knows when people need it. They’re a family, after all. What’s the point if they can’t all be here for each other when they need to be?

 

For a long moment, there’s silence. It’s not something that they’re used to; noise usually follows the Hornets wherever they go, raucous and obnoxious and uncaring. The despondent quiet seems to press in on Hollis from all sides, oppressive and heavy. The empty halls ring with it. Even with half a dozen other Hornets sitting on benches and in corners up and down the hallway, it feels almost…

 

Dead. It feels dead.

 

Hollis wonders if that will ever change, now.

 

None of the others speak. A few of them are asleep, one or two close by half paying attention to their conversation with Keith. One of their newest members, a guy named Alex, has been staring at a wall with unfocused eyes for several minutes now. If Hollis looks close enough, they can see him trembling.

 

What the fuck are they supposed to do here?

 

Their friends, their family, their people - hurt, scared, dead. And it happened right under their nose. They should have said something, done something, stopped that fucking monster from getting into the Nest. Maybe then there wouldn’t be Hornets in the morgue and more fighting for their lives.

 

Logically, they know that there’s nothing they could have done. If they’d tried to get in the way, it probably just would have killed them too. But some small part of their mind whispers that they could have at least tried. They know that even if this isn’t their fault, they’ll carry the guilt of the fact that it even happened for the rest of their life.

 

Because they’re the leader. They’re supposed to protect people.

 

And they can’t even do that.

 

Frustration rises in their throat, feeling suspiciously like tears. Helplessness isn’t something that they’re used to, and it pisses them off. They haven’t been helpless in years. That’s sort of their whole gig - they’re powerful, they’re dangerous, and they can take care of themselves and all of their friends. They’re strong because they have to be, for themselves and the others.

 

Now, though…

 

They feel almost exposed. It reminds them of an old saying they’ve always hated, that folks like them think that they’re ten feet tall and bulletproof until they get shot down. They always knew that the Hornets weren’t infallible. There was always a chance of something awful happening. Shit, they all risk their lives every day for fun. But this? None of them could have been prepared for something like this. For fucking monsters.

 

They never actually thought that any of them would wind up dead. Half their crew is in fucking shambles, and they feel like they’ve been curb-stomped by reality. For fuck’s sake, some of their members are barely out of high school. Hardly more than kids. And now they’ve had to witness people die right in front of them, people that should still be alive, people that were torn limb from limb and covered in so much blood-

 

Hollis is shaken from their thoughts when Keith suddenly lifts his head.

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he growls. Hollis tenses up, their mind snapping instantly back into fight mode. Then they look up, and almost stop breathing.

 

Jake Coolice, of all people, is standing a dozen feet away. He’s wringing his hands nervously, his teeth worrying his bottom lip and his big blue eyes darting anxiously back and forth. He seems to be rethinking whatever decision led him here. Hollis can’t help but feel a vicious spark of satisfaction. He chose his path years ago, and this doesn’t belong to him anymore.

 

Then they realize how unfair that is - people are dead. People that Jake used to be friends with, too. Of course he’d want to be here. This isn’t about arguments or petty rivalry bullshit anymore.

 

Still, they wish that their heart didn’t feel lighter just at the sight of him. It’s been almost two years. They should be past this.

 

Jake’s just always had that kind of effect on people.

 

Hollis stands up, leaving a warning hand on Keith’s shoulder.

 

“Jake,” they say simply. “What are you doing here?”

 

Jake looks from them to Keith and back, hesitating before he answers. “I, um. I wanted to come by. I wanted to see what exactly happened? And to help, if I could. I’m… I’m so sorry, Hollis.”

 

“We don’t need your help-” Keith starts, moving like he’s going to stand up and put himself between them, only to wince and fall back down onto the bench.

 

“Keith, that’s enough,” Hollis says. They’re trying for a sharper tone, but it just comes off as tired. They cross their arms as they stare Jake down, weighing their options.

 

Unfortunately, Keith doesn’t seem as willing to back down this time.

 

“No, fuck that. What the fuck are you doing here?” he spits, glaring at Jake. “Why come crawling back now, pretending that you care? Haven’t you done enough? You here now that something went wrong like you said it would, just to twist the fucking knife? Is that it?”

 

Jake’s eyes are wide, and Hollis can’t tell if he’s about to run or cry. “N-no, that’s not- I don’t-”

 

“Keith.” they hiss, turning on him. Their anger must show on their face, because Keith shrinks back, though not without one last murderous glare in Jake’s direction. “Quit being an asshole. No one could have known this was gonna happen, least of all Jake. Go take a walk, see if you can check in on Red or something.”

 

Keith gives them a long, measured look. For a second, Hollis almost thinks that he won’t listen - then he gives them a single sharp nod and climbs unsteadily to his feet. The other Hornets are watching the whole exchange uncertainly, but none seem willing to pick up Keith’s fight. None of them are giving Jake particularly charitable looks, however, and Hollis is suddenly tired of feeling like a spectacle.

 

“C’mon, Jake,” they say, striding off down the hallway and waving over their shoulder for him to follow without looking back. They walk with purpose, shoulders back and chin up - they’re a leader, damn it, and they’re going to act like one. Then they round a corner into another empty white hallway, and it seems to spin around them, and there’s Jake watching them with concern in his eyes, and as they slump back against the wall there’s no fighting back the tears anymore.

 

They squeeze their eyes shut, pressing a hand to their mouth in a desperate attempt to hold it together. Jake murmurs their name, and they look up to see him right in front of them. He’s holding out a hand like he wants to reassure them, but doesn’t know how, and that’s it for Hollis.

 

They just break. There’s no better word for it. Their forehead is pressed against Jake’s chest, their fingers balled tight in the material of his jacket as their shoulders shake and they gasp for breath. They can’t remember the last time they cried this hard.

 

They’re dimly aware of Jake whispering “Oh, Hollis…” and wrapping his arms around their shoulders. They just tighten their grip on him as sobs tear from their throat. At some point, their knees buckle and Jake guides them carefully onto the floor, never once letting go.

 

Hollis’s head is spinning, and once they start crying, they can’t seem to stop. Within the last eight hours, their life seems to have upended and shattered every foundation they’ve built it on. They faced down a monster that shouldn’t have been real; they watched it murder two of their friends and put five others in the hospital; they chased it down, and it fucking disappeared; and now Jake is back, and the worst part is that being held like this is still so familiar that it feels like he was never gone. Two years of pain and heartache, eclipsed in an instant. They can’t imagine ever feeling safe again, not really, but Jake’s arms are pretty close. He’s always felt like home.

 

With everything else racing through their mind, they decide not to worry about that too much right now.

 

They have no idea how long they stay like that, falling apart in an empty hospital hallway with only Jake as a witness. The others can probably still hear them, but they can’t honestly bring themselves to care. If they can, they’re at least smart enough not to come looking. The whole time, Jake just hugs them as tightly as he can. He doesn’t say anything. One hand rubs comfortingly up and down their back, and he keeps their head tucked under his chin.

 

Hollis is sure that eventually the fact that Jake fucking Coolice is the one comforting them will register, and they’ll feel weird about it at the very least. But for right now, the insanity of the whole situation is fading into the background. For now, they just let themselves exist. It’s all that they can do. And Jake is the only good and familiar thing that they have to hold onto right now, even though he shouldn’t be either of those.

 

They’ll take whatever they can get.

 

Eventually, their crying slows enough that they can sit up, wiping at their eyes and not even bothering to pretend that they’re pushing Jake away. He moves to sit on the floor next to them with his back against the wall; he still doesn’t let go. It’s then that Hollis looks up and realizes that he’s crying, too. No one should still be able to look that pretty with red-rimmed eyes and a runny nose, but of course Jake does.

 

He gives Hollis a tiny, crooked smile when he sees them looking at him.

 

“Hey, Hol,” he whispers, and it’s all Hollis can do not to break down again. Fuck, but they missed him more than they realized. That’s a lot to unpack, but they can worry about it later.

 

“Hey, Jake,” they respond, brushing a tear from his cheek with their thumb. “What are you crying for?”

 

Jake lets out a shaky laugh. “‘Cause you are. You know how I am. Can’t see someone else cry, or I just lose it too.”

 

Hollis laughs in spite of themselves. Jake’s right; he’s always been a bit of a crybaby, but that’s okay.

 

They lean their head back against the wall, trying not to sniffle. Jake chuckles under his breath, and they raise an eyebrow at him.

 

“Sorry, it’s just… You look like shit right now,” he says.

 

“Great, thanks for that.”

 

“I’m - okay, sorry, I just. I’m just really, really glad that you’re okay,” Jake mumbles. Hollis sighs, letting their fingers slip down to twine with his. They barely even have to think about it - another thing to file away in the deal-with-it-later cabinet.

 

“I shouldn’t be,” they whisper, half to themselves. “Not with people dead and others halfway there.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Jake asks, almost incredulous. “You’re lucky, Hollis. If that thing had gotten hold of you too, who knows how much worse things might have gotten.” He brushes his fingers gently over a bandage on their cheek, a souvenir from the glass shards of the bar’s front window.

 

Hollis just shakes their head, exhausted. Jake doesn’t press.

 

They just sit there, holding each other together on the cold linoleum floor and ignoring all the reasons that they shouldn’t be. There are still things that have to be said and questions that need to be answered. There are still bodies to identify, and friends to watch over, and a town outside with monsters stalking its streets while its residents sleep.

 

But here and now, it’s just them. Just like it used to be.

 

Perhaps Hollis deserves a moment to be selfish, after everything.

 

All the rest can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> hollice rights babey!
> 
> thanks so much for reading, i hope y'all enjoyed this one. i'm hoping to do some more stuff centered around the hornets (happier this time i promise) in the future, so we'll see where that goes. i also hope the inclusion of random non-canon characters wasn't too jarring - i know some people don't like it much, but seeing as we only know the names of 4 hornets in canon i needed at least some placeholders, and decided that if i was going to be including random ocs they might as well serve the narrative and make the hornets feel more like a family.
> 
> as always, you can find me on my taz/cr/dnd tumblr @story-and-song! messages are always welcome, even if it's just to scream. thanks again for reading, and have a great day!!


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